D+17:11:04 (SPARTAN-117 Mission Clock) /Pelican Echo 419, in flight.

Recon flights conducted the day before had revealed that the sensors aboardCovenant vesselTruth and Reconciliation might have a blind spot down-spin ofthe alien vessel’s current position, where a small mountain rose to blockthe electronic view.

Even more important, Wellsley had concocted an array of signals designed totrick the Covenant technicians into believing that any UNSC dropship wasactually one of their own. Fifty meters above the deck, and cloaked inelectronic camouflage, the Master Chief and a Pelican-load of Helljumperswaited to find out if their ruse would work.

Only time would tell if the fake signals were effective. One thing was forcertain: Though conceived for the express purpose of rescuing Captain Keyes,the mission put together by Silva, Wellsley, and Cortana bore still another,even more important purpose.

If the rescue teamdid manage to penetrate a Covenant vessel, andsuccessfully remove a prisoner, the human presence on Halo would betransformed from an attempt merely to survive into a full-fledged resistancemovement.

The ship shuddered as it hit a series of air pockets, then swayed from sideto side as the pilot who referred to herself as Foehammer wove back andforth through an obstacle course of low-lying hills. The Master Chief tookthe opportunity to assess the Marines seated around him. They wereHelljumpers, the same people Silva said would ultimately win the war,relegating “freaks” like himself to the dustbin of history.

Maybe Silva was right, maybe the Spartan programwould end with him, but thatdidn’t matter. Not here—not now. The Marines would help him take out thesentries, cope with weapons emplacements, and reach the gravity lift locateddirectly below theTruth and Reconciliation ’s belly, and he was glad tohave their help. Even with the element of surprise, plus support from theODST troops, things were likely to be pretty hot by the time they made it tothe lift. That’s when asecond dropship would land and discharge a group ofregular Marines that would join the assault on the ship itself.

There was some concern that theTruth and Reconciliation might simply lift atthat point, but Cortana had been monitoring Covenant communications, and wasconvinced that critical repairs were still being made to the alien cruiser.

Assuming that they were able to reach the gravity lift, meet up with theirreinforcements, and fight their way aboard the ship, all they had to do wasfind Keyes, eliminate an unknown number of hostiles, and show up for thedust-off. A walk in the park.

Foehammer’s voice came over the intercom. “We are five to dirt . . .

repeat five to dirt.”

That was Sergeant Parker’s cue to stand and eye his troops. His voice cameover the team freq and grated on the Spartan’s ears. “All right, boys andgirls . . . lock and load. The Covenant is throwing a party and you areinvited. Remember, the Master Chief goes in first, so take your cues fromhim. I don’t know about you, but Ilike having a swabbie on point.”

There was general laughter. Parker gave the Spartan a thumbs-up, and heoffered the same gesture in return. It felt good to have some backup for achange.

He mentally reviewed the plan, which called for him to insert ahead of theHelljumpers, and clear a path with his S2 AM sniper’s rifle. Once the outerdefenses were cleared, the Marines would move up. Then, once the element ofsurprise had been lost, the Master Chief planned to switch to his MA5Bassault rifle for the close-in work. Like the rest of the troops, theSpartan was carrying a full combat load of ammo, grenades, and other gear,plus two magazines for the M19 launchers.

“Thirty seconds to dirt!” Foehammer announced. “Shoot some of thebastards for me!”

As the Pelican hovered a foot above the surface, Parker yelled, “Go, go,go!” and the Master Chief sprang down the ramp. He sidestepped and sweptthe area. The Helljumpers thundered down the ramp and onto the ground, rightbehind him.

It was dark, which meant they had nothing beyond the light reflected off themoon that hung in the sky and the glow of Covenant work lights to guide themto their objective. Seconds later, Echo 419 was airborne again. The pilotturned down-spin, fed fuel to her engines, and disappeared into the night.

The Master Chief heard the aircraft pass over his head, gathered hisbearings, and spotted a footpath off to the right. The ODST troops spreadout to either side as Parker and a three-Marine fire team turned to coverthe group’s six.

He crept along the rocky footpath, which rose to a two-meter-highembankment. As he neared a cluster of rocks, Cortana warned the Spartan ofenemy activity ahead. A host of red dots appeared on his motion sensor.

Several meters ahead and to the left was a deep pit—some kind ofexcavation, judging from the Covenant work lights that dotted the area withpools of illumination. He briefly wondered what the aliens were looking for.

He clicked the rifle’s safety off. What they were looking for didn’tmatter. In the end, he’d make sure they never lived to find it.

The Master Chief found a patch of cover next to a tree, raised the rifle,and used the scope’s 2X and night optics setting to find the Covenant gunemplacements located on the far side of the depression. There were lots ofGrunts, Jackals, and Elites in the area, but it was imperative to neutralizethe plasma cannons—known as Shades—before the Marines moved out into theopen. His MJOLNIR armor and shields could handle a limited amount of theShades’ plasma fire. The Helljumpers’ ballistic armor, on the other hand,just couldn’t handle that kind of firepower.

Once both Shades had been located, the Spartan switched to the 10X setting,practiced the move from one target to the next, and tried it yet again.

Once he was sure that he could switch targets quickly enough, he exhaledquietly, then held his breath. His hand squeezed the trigger and the riflekicked against his shoulder. The first shot took the nearest gunner in thechest. As the Grunt tumbled from the Shade’s seat, the Master Chief pannedthe rifle to the right, and put a 14.5mm round through the second Grunt’spointy head.

The rifle’s booming report alerted the Covenant and they returned fire. Hemoved forward along the low ridge and took a new firing position behind thescaly bark of a tree. The rifle barked twice more, and a pair of Jackalsfell. He reloaded with practiced ease, and continued sniping. Without theShades to support them, the enemy fell in ones, twos, and threes.

The Master Chief reloaded again, fired until there were no more targets ofopportunity, and made the switch to his assault rifle. He jumped down intothe open pit and crouched behind a large boulder, one of several that werestrewn around the depression.

“Helljumpers: move up!” he barked into the radio. In seconds, the ODSTscharged into the pit. As the lead soldiers entered, a trio of Grunts burstfrom hiding, shot one of the Marines in the face, and tried to run. TheHelljumper’s body hadn’t even hit the ground before the Spartan andanother ODST hosed the aliens with bullets.

The gunshots echoed through the twisting canyons, then faded. The Spartanfrowned; there was no way the fracas would go unnoticed. The element ofsurprise was gone.

There was no time to waste. The Master Chief led the Helljumpers through thedepression, up a hill on the far side of the pit, and along the side of asheer cliff face. He stayed close to this rock wall on his right, mindful ofthe sheer drop that awaited any who strayed too far to the left. He couldjust make out the glint of moonlight on a massive ocean, far below him.

His motion sensor pinged two contacts and he waved the ODSTs to a halt. Hecrouched behind a clump of brush at the top of the cliff path, conscious ofthe massive drop on the other side. A pair of Jackals rounded the bendahead, their overcharged plasma pistols pulsing green, and paid dearly fortheir enthusiasm.

The Spartan sprang from his cover and slammed the butt of his rifle into thenearest Jackal’s shield. The energy field flared and died, and the force ofthe blow sent the alien tumbling off the path. The alien screamed andplummeted off the cliff.

The Chief pivoted and fired his rifle from the hip. The burst struck thesecond alien in the side. The Jackal slammed to the ground as his fingertightened on his weapon’s trigger as he died. A massive hole blossomed inthe rock above the Master Chief’s head.

He slammed a fresh magazine into his weapon, and continued to advance.

“Here’s a little something to remember me by,” one of the Marinesgrowled, and shot each Jackal in the head.

As the team continued up the path, they encountered another Shade, moreGrunts, and a pair of Jackals, all of whom seemed to melt away under thecombined assault by the Master Chief’s sniper rifle, the Marine’s assaultweapons, and a few well-placed grenades.

The rescue force pressed on, toward the lights beyond. Covenant resistancewas determined but spotty, and before long the Master Chief could hear thethrumming sound of the alien ship as it hovered more than a hundred metersabove them. His skin crackled with static electricity. In the center of asteep dip in the rock lay a large metal disk, the gravity lift that theCovenant used to move troops, supplies, and vehicles to and from the ringworld’s surface. Purple light shimmered around the platform where the beamwas anchored.

“Come on!” the Master Chief shouted, pointing at the lift. “That’s ourway in. Let’s move!”

There was a mad dash through a narrow canyon followed by a pitched battle asthe Master Chief and the Helljumpers entered the area directly below theship.

The depression was ringed with Shades, and all of them opened fire at once.

The Chief made use of the sniper rifle to kill the nearest gunner, chargedup the intervening slope, and jumped into the now vacant seat. The firstorder of business was to silence the other guns.

He yanked the control yoke to the left and the gun swiveled to face a secondShade, across the defile. A glowing image of a hollow triangle floated infront of his face. When it lined up with the other gun, it flashed red. Hethumbed the firing studs, and lances of purple-white energy lashed the enemyemplacement. The Grunt gunner struggled to leap free of his Shade, fell intothe path of the Spartan’s fire, and was speared by a powerful blast. Heslumped against the base of his abandoned Shade, a smoking hole burnedthrough his chest.

The Master Chief swiveled the captured gun and took aim on the remainingShades. He hosed the targets with a hellish wave of destructive energy,then, satisfied that the emplacements were silenced, went to work on theenemy ground troops.

He had just burned a pair of Jackals to the ground when Cortana announcedthat a Covenant dropship was inbound, and the Master Chief was forced toshift his fire to the alien aircraft and the troops that spilled out ontothe ground.

The human walked the blue Shade fire across the aliens, cutting them down,and pounding what remained into mush. He was still at it when a Marineyelled, “Look at that! There’s more of them!” and a dozen figures floateddown through the gravity lift. A pair of the newcomers were huge and woresteel-blue armor as well as handheld plate-armor shields.

The Chief had faced such creatures before, not long before Reach fell.

Covenant Hunters were tough, dangerous foes—practically walking tanks. Theywere slow and appeared clumsy, but the cannons mounted on their arms wereequivalent to the heavy weapons a Banshee carried, and they could leap intomotion with startling suddenness. Their metal shields could withstand atremendous amount of punishment. Worse, they would never stop until theenemy lay dead at their feet . . . or they were dead themselves.

The Helljumpers opened fire, grenades exploded, and the pair of Huntersroared defiance. One of them lifted his right arm and fired his weapon, afuel rod gun. One of the ODSTs screamed and fell, his flesh melting. TheMarine’s rocket fired into the air, slid into the grav lift beam, anddetonated harmlessly.

The Hunters lumbered from the grav lift and strode up the edge of the pit.

Behind them, a swarm of Jackals and Elites formed a rough phalanx andpeppered the human positions with plasma fire.

Sergeant Parker yelled, “Hit ’em, Helljumpers!” and the ODSTs poured fireonto the massive alien juggernauts. Bullets pinged from their armor andwhined through the rocks.

The Spartan swiveled around, and heard a warning tone as a Hunter’s weapondischarged. Burning energy smashed into him. The Shade shook under the forceof the incoming fire as the Master Chief clenched his jaw and forced himselfto bring the targeting reticle down onto the target. His shield bled energyand began to shriek a shrill alarm.

The instant the targeting display pulsed red, he mashed down the firingstuds and unleashed a flood of incandescent blue light. The Hunter didn’thave time to bring its shield fully into play, and plasma blasts burnedthrough multiple layers of armor, and exited through his spine.

The Spartan heard a cry of what sounded like anguish as the second alien sawhis bond brother fall. The Hunter spun and fired his fuel rod gun at theMaster Chief’s captured emplacement. The Shade took a direct hit, flippedover onto its side, and threw him to the ground.

The ground vibrated as the enraged alien charged up the slope, right for thedowned Spartan. The Chief rolled to his right and came up in a low crouch.

The alien was close now, within five meters. A row of razor-sharp spinessprang up along the Hunter’s back. With his shields depleted, the Chiefknew that those spines could cut him in two.

He dropped to one knee and unslung his assault rifle. Bullets bouncedharmlessly from the alien’s armor. At the last second, he dodged left andslid down the slope. The Hunter didn’t anticipate the move, and the razor-spines passed over the Spartan’s head, missing him by mere inches.

The Chief rolled onto his belly—and saw his opportunity. A patch of orange,leathery skin was visible along the Hunter’s curved spine. He emptied theMA5B’s magazine into the unprotected target, and thick orange blood goutedfrom a cluster of bullet wounds. The Hunter gave a low, keening wail, thencollapsed in a puddle of his own gore.

He rose to one knee, fed a fresh magazine into the assault rifle, andscanned the area for enemies. “All clear,” he called out.

The remaining ODSTs called in all clears as well. That opened the way to thelift and Cortana was quick to seize on the opportunity. She activated thearmor’s communication system.“Cortana to Echo 419. We made it to thegravity lift—and are ready for reinforcements.”

“Copy that, Cortana . . . Echo 419 inbound. Clear the drop zone.”

“What’s the matter?” Sergeant Parker demanded of his troops, several ofwhom were looking longingly at the fast-approaching Pelican’s runningstrobes. “Never seen a UNSC dropship before? Keep your eyes on the rocks,damn it—that’s where the bastards will come from.”

The Spartan waited for Echo 419 to unload the fresh Marines, waved themforward, and joined the surviving Helljumpers on the lift pad. “Looks likewe made it,” a private said, just before an invisible hand reached down topluck him off the surface.

Sergeant Parker looked up toward the belly of the ship, and said, “Aren’twe the lucky ones?” then rose as if suspended from a rope.

“Once we’re in the ship I can home in on the Captain’s Command NeuralInterface,” Cortana said. “The CNI will lead us to him. He’ll probably bein or near the ship’s brig.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” the Chief answered dryly, and felt the beam pullhim upward. Someone else yelled, “Yeehaw!” and vanished into the belly ofthe ship. The Covenant didn’t realize it yet—but the Marines had landed.

None of the humans understood, much less had the ability to predict, thering world’s weather. So, when big drops of blood-warm rain fell on themesa, it came as a complete surprise. The Helljumpers grumbled as the waterstreamed off their faces, soaked their uniforms, and started to pool on thesurface of the landing pad.

McKay saw things differently, however. She liked the wet stuff, not justbecause it felt good on her skin, but because bad weather would offer theinsertion team that much more cover.

“Listen up, people!” Sergeant Lister bellowed. “You know the drill.

Let’s shake, rattle, and roll.”

There weren’t many lights, just enough so that people could move aroundwithout running into one another, but the fact that Silva had been on suchmissions himself meant that he could visualize what his eyes couldn’t see.

The troopers carried a full combat load, which meant that their packs werefestooned with weapons, ammo, grenades, flares, radios, and med packs—allof which would make noise unless properly secured. Noise would bring a worldof trouble down on their heads during an op. That’s why Lister passedthrough the ranks and forced each Marine to jump up and down. Anything thatclicked, squeaked, or rattled was identified and restowed, taped, orotherwise fastened into place.

Once all the troops had passed inspection, the Helljumpers would board thewaiting dropships for a short flight to the point where thePillar of Autumnhad crashed. The Covenant had placed guards in and around the fallencruiser, so McKay and her Marines would have to retake the ship long enoughto fill the extensive shopping list that Silva had given her.

According to Wellsley, Napoleon I once said, “What makes the general’stask so difficult is the necessity of feeding so many men and animals.”

Silva didn’t have any animals to feed, but he did have a flock of Pelicans,and the essence of the problem was the same. With the exception of the ODSTtroopers, who carried extra supplies in their HEVs, the rest of the Navy andMarine personnel had bailed out of theAutumn with very little in the way ofsupplies. Obtaining more of everything, and doing it before the Covenantlaunched an all-out attack on Alpha Base, would be the key to survival.

Later, assuming there was a later, the infantry officer would have to find away to get his people the hell off the ring world.

Silva’s thoughts were interrupted as Echo 419 raced in over the mesa,flared nose up, and settled onto what had been designated as Pad 3.

The assault on theTruth and Reconciliation had gone well so far, which meantthat Second Lieutenant Dalu, who had been assigned to follow along behindthe rescue team and scoop up everything he could, was having a good evening.

Each time Echo 419 dropped a load of troops she brought enemy arms andequipment back in. Plasma rifles, plasma pistols, needlers, power packs,hand tools, com equipment, and even food packs. Dalu loved them all.

Silva grinned as the Lieutenant waved a team of Naval techs in under thePelican’s belly to take delivery of the Shade he and his team had liftedright out from under the Covenant’s collective noses. That was the thirdgun acquired since the beginning of the operation, and would soon take itsplace within the butte’s steadily growing air defense system.

Sergeant Lister shouted, “Ten-shun!”, did a smart about-face, and salutedLieutenant McKay. She returned the salute, and said, “At ease.”

Silva walked out into the rain and felt it pelt his face. He turned to lookat the ranks of black, brown, and white faces. All he saw were Marines.

“Most, if not all of you, are familiar with my office aboard thePillar ofAutumn . In the rush to leave it seems that I left a full bottle of Scotchin the lower left-hand drawer of my desk. If one or more of you would be sokind as to retrieve that bottle, not only would I be extremely grateful, Iwould show my gratitude by sharing it with the person or persons who manageto bring it in.”

There was a roar of approval. Lister shouted them down. “Silence! Corporal,take that man’s name.” The Corporal to whom the order was directed had noidea which name he was supposed to take down, but knew it didn’t matter.

Silva knew the Helljumpers had been briefed, and understood thetrue purposeof the mission, so he brought his remarks to a close.

“Good luck out there . . . I’ll see you in a couple of days.” Except thathewouldn’t see them, not all of them. Good commanding officers had to lovetheir men—and still be willing to order their deaths if needed. It was theaspect of command he hated the most.

The formation was dismissed. The Marines jogged up into the back of thewaiting Pelicans, and the dropships soon disappeared into the blackness ofthe night.

Silva remained on the pad until the sound of the engines could no longer beheard. Then, conscious of the fact that every war must be won on theequivalent of paper before it can be won on the ground, he turned backtoward the low-lying structure that housed his command post. The night wasstill young—and there was plenty of work left to do.

The gravity lift deposited the rescue team three feet above the deck. Theyhung suspended for a moment, then fell. Parker gave a series of handsignals, and the ODSTs crept forward into the lift bay.

The Covenant equivalent of gear crates—tapered rectangular boxes made fromthe shimmering, striated purple metal the aliens favored—were stackedaround the high compartment. A pair of Covenant tanks, “Wraiths,” werelined along the right side of the bay.

The Master Chief moved forward toward one of the high metal doors that werespaced along the perimeter of the compartment.

Parker gave the all clear signal and the Marines relaxed a bit. “There’sno Covenant here,” one of them whispered, “so where the hellare they?”

The door was proximity activated, and as he neared the portal, it slid openand revealed a surprised Elite. Without pause, the Spartan tackled the alienand slammed its armored head into the burnished deckplates. With luck, he’dfinished the Elite quietly enough—Another set of doors flashed open on the other side of the bay, and Covenanttroops boiled into the compartment.

A second Marine turned to the Corporal who’d just spoken. “ ‘NoCovenant,’ ” he snarled, mocking his fellow trooper. “You justhad to openyour mouth, didn’t you?”

Inside the Covenant ship, chaos reigned. The Master Chief charged ahead, andthe rescue team fought their way through a maze of interlocking corridors,which eventually emerged into a large shuttle bay. A Covenant dropshippassed through a bright blue force field as all hell broke loose. Firestuttered down from a platform above. A Marine took a flurry of needles inthe chest and was torn in half by the ensuing explosion.

A Grunt dropped from above and landed on a Corporal’s shoulders. The Marinereached up, got a grip on the alien’s methane rig, and jerked the deviceoff. The Grunt started to wheeze, fell to the deck, and flopped around likea fish. Someone shot him.

Numerous hatches opened into the bay and additional Covenant troops pouredin from every direction. Parker stood up and motioned his men forward.

“It’s party time!” he bellowed.

He spun and opened fire, and was soon joined by all the rest. Within amatter of seconds what seemed like a dozen different firefights had brokenout. Wounded and dead—humans and Covenant alike—littered the deck.

The Master Chief was careful to keep his back to a Marine, a pillar, or thenearest bulkhead. His MJOLNIR armor, and the recharging shield it carried,provided the Spartan with an advantage that none of the Marines possessed,so he focused most of his attention on the Elites, leaving the Jackals andGrunts for others to handle.

Cortana, meanwhile, was hard at work tapping into the ship’s electronicnervous system in an attempt to find the best way out of the trap. “We needa way out of this baynow ,” the Master Chief told her, “or there won’t beanyone left to complete the mission.”

He ducked behind a crate, emptied his magazine into a charging Grunt whowielded a plasma grenade, then paused to reload.

A Hunter gave a bloodcurdling roar as it charged into the fray. The Spartanturned and saw Sergeant Parker fire at the massive alien. A trio of bulletsspat from his assault rifle—the last three rounds in the weapon. Hediscarded the empty gun and backpedaled in an attempt to buy himself sometime. His hand dipped for his sidearm.

The Hunter sprang forward and the tips of the beast’s razor-spines shreddedthrough the Marine’s ballistic armor. He crashed to the deck.

The Master Chief cursed under his breath, slapped a fresh clip into place,racked a round into the chamber and took aim on the Hunter. The alien wascoming on fast,too fast, and the Spartan knew he wasn’t going to get akill-shot in time.

The Hunter stepped past Sergeant Parker’s prone form. The alien’s razorspines sprang into view, and it roared again as the Spartan sprayed it withgunfire, knowing the gesture was futile, but unwilling to let the enemy athis teammate’s exposed flank.

Without warning, the Hunter reared up, howled, and crashed to the ground.

The Master Chief was puzzled, and briefly checked his weapon. Could he havegotten in a lucky shot?

He heard a cough, and saw Sergeant Parker struggling to his feet, a smokingM6D pistol in his hand. Blood flowed from the gashes in his side, and he wasunsteady on his feet, but he found the strength to spit on the Hunter’sfallen corpse.

The Chief took a covering position near the wounded sergeant. He gave him abrisk nod. “Not bad for a Marine. Thanks.”

The sergeant grabbed a fallen assault rifle, slammed a fresh magazine intoplace, and grinned. “Any time, swabbie.”

His motion sensor showed more contacts inbound, but they were keeping theirdistance. Their failed assault on the bay must have left themdisorganized.Good, he thought.We need all the time we can get. “Cortana,”

he said, “how much longer before you get a door open?”

“Got it!” Cortana proclaimed exultantly. One of the heavy doors hissedopen. “Everyone should move through the door now. I can’t guarantee thatit won’t lock when it closes.”

“Follow me!” he barked, then led the surviving Marines out of the shuttlebay and into the comparative safety of a corridor beyond.

The next fifteen minutes were like a slow-motion nightmare as the rescuersfought their way through a maze of corridors, up a series of narrow ramps,and onto the launch bay’s upper level. With Cortana’s guidance, theyplunged back into the ship’s oppressive passageways.

As they proceeded through the bowels of the large warship, Cortana finallygave them good news: “The Captain’s signal is strong. He must be close.”

The Chief frowned. This was taking too long. Every passing second made itthat much less likely that any of the rescue party would be able to get offtheTruth and Reconciliation alive, let alone with Captain Keyes. The ODSTswere good fighters, but they were slowing him down.

He turned to Sergeant Parker and said, “Hold your men here. I’ll be backsoon—with the Captain.”

She started to protest, then nodded. “Just don’t tell Silva,” she said.

“I won’t.”

The Master Chief ran from door to door until one of them opened to reveal arectangular room lined with cells. It appeared that the translucent forcefields served in place of bars. He dashed inside and called the Captain’sname, but received no answer. A quick check confirmed that, with theexception of one dead Marine, the detention center was empty.

Frustrated, yet reassured by Cortana’s insistence that the CNI signalremained strong, the Spartan exited the room, entered the hall, andliterally went door to door, searching for the correct hatch. Once helocated it, the Master Chief almost wished he hadn’t.

The portal slid open, a Grunt yelled something the Master Chief couldn’tunderstand, and a plasma beam lashed past the human’s helmet.

The Master Chief opened fire, heard a Marine yell from within one of thecells, “Good to see you, Chief!” and knew he was in the right place.

A plasma beam appeared out of nowhere, hit the Spartan in the chest, andtriggered the armor’s audible alarm. He ducked behind a support column,just in time to see an energy beam slice through the spot he had justvacated. He scanned the room, looking for his assailant.

Nothing.

His motion sensor showed faint trace movements, but he couldn’t spot theirsource.

His eyes narrowed, and he noticed a slight shimmer in the air, directly infront of him. He fired a sustained burst through the middle of it, and wasrewarded with a loud howl. The Elite seemed to materialize out of thin air,made a grab for his own entrails, and managed to catch them before he died.

He strode to the access controls and, with Cortana’s help, killed the forcefields. Captain Keyes stepped out of his cell, paused to scoop a Needler offthe floor, and met the Chief’s eyes. “Coming here was reckless,” he said,his voice harsh. The Chief was about to explain his orders when Keyes’

expression warmed, and theAutumn ’s CO smiled. “Thanks.”

The Spartan nodded. “Any time, sir.”

“Can you find your way out?” Keyes inquired doubtfully. “The corridors ofthis ship are like a maze.”

“It shouldn’t be too difficult,” the Master Chief replied. “All we haveto do is follow the bodies.”

Lieutenant “Cookie” Peterson put Echo 136 down a full klick from thePillarof Autumn , looked out through the rain-spattered windscreen, and saw Echo206 settle in approximately fifty meters away. It had been an uneventfulflight, thanks in part to the weather, and the fact that the assault ontheTruth and Reconciliation had probably served to distract the Covenantfrom what was going on elsewhere.

Peterson felt the ship shudder as the ramp hit the ground, waited for theCrew Chief to call “Clear!”, and fired the Pelican’s thrusters. The shipwas extremely vulnerable while on the ground—and he was eager to return tothe relative safety of Alpha Base. Then, assuming the Helljumpers got thejob done, he and his crew would be back to transport some of the survivorsand their loot.

Back at Alpha Base, McKay watched Echo 136 wobble as a gust of wind hit thePelican from the side, saw the ship gather speed, and start to climb out.

Echo 206 took off a few moments later and both ships were gone within amatter of seconds.

Her people knew what they were doing, so rather than make a pest of herself,McKay decided to wait and watch as the platoon leaders sorted things out.

The officer felt the usual moments of fear, of self-doubt regarding herability to accomplish the mission, but took comfort from something aninstructor once told her.

“Take a look around,” the instructor had advised. “Ask yourself ifthere’s anyone else who is better qualified to do the job. Not in theentire galaxy, but right there, at that point in time. If the answer is‘yes,’ ask them to accept command, and do everything you can to supportthem. If the answer is ‘no,’ which it will be ninety-nine percent of thetime, then take your best shot. That’s all any of us can do.”

It was good advice, the kind that made a difference, and while it didn’terase McKay’s fears, it certainly served to ease them.

Master Sergeant Lister and Second Lieutenant Oros seemed to materialize outof the darkness. Oros had a small, pixielike face which belied her innatetoughness. If anything happened to McKay, Oros would take over, and if shebought the farm Lister would step in. The battalion had been short ofofficersbefore the shit hit the fan, and what with Lieutenant Dalu offplaying Supply Officer, McKay was one Platoon Leader short of a full load.

That’s why Lister had been called upon to fill the hole.

“Platoons one and two are ready to go,” Oros reported cheerfully. “Let usat ’em!”

“You just want to raid the ship’s commissary,” McKay said, referring tothe Platoon Leader’s well-known addiction to chocolate.

“No, ma’am,” Oros replied innocently, “the Lieutenant lives only toserve the needs of humanity, the Marine Corps, and the Company Commander.”

Even the normally stone-faced Lister had to laugh at that, and McKay felther own spirits lift as well. “Okay, Lieutenant Oros, the human race wouldbe grateful if you would put a couple of your best people on point and leadthis outfit to the ship. I’ll ride your six with Sergeant Lister and thesecond platoon walking drag. Are you okay with that?”

Both Platoon Leaders nodded and melted into the night. McKay looked for thetail end of the first platoon, slid into line, and let her mind roam ahead.

Somewhere, about one kilometer ahead, thePillar of Autumn lay sprawled onthe ground. The Covenant owned the ship for the moment—but McKay wasdetermined to take her back.

It was time to get off theTruth and Reconciliation . As Covenant troops ranhither and yon, the recently freed Marines armed themselves with alienweapons, then linked up with the rest of the rescue team. Keyes and Cortanaconvened a quick council of war. “While the Covenant had us locked up inhere, I heard them talking about the ring world,” Keyes said, “and itsdestructive capabilities.”

“One moment, sir,” Cortana interrupted, “I’m accessing the Covenantbattle net.” She paused, as her vastly powerful intrusion protocols siftedthrough the Covenant systems. Information systems seemed to be the one fieldwhere human technologies held their own against those of the Covenant.

Seconds later, she finished her sift of the alien data stream. “If I’minterpreting the data correctly, they believe Halo is some kind of weapon,one that possesses vast, unimaginable power.”

Keyes nodded thoughtfully. “The aliens who interrogated me kept saying that‘whoever controls Halo controls the fate of the universe.’ ”

“Now I see,” Cortana put in thoughtfully. “I intercepted a number ofmessages about a Covenant search team scouting for a control room. I thoughtthey were looking for the bridge of the ship I damaged during the battleabove the ring—but they must be looking for Halo’s control room.”

“That’s bad news,” Keyes responded gravely. “IfHalo is a weapon, and theCovenant gains control of it, they’ll use it against us. Who knows whatpower that would give them?

“Chief, Cortana, I have anew mission for you. We need to beat the Covenantto Halo’s control room.”

“No offense, sir,” the Master Chief replied, “but it might be best tofinishthis mission before we tackle another one.”

Keyes offered a tired grin. “Good point, Chief. Marines! Let’s move!”

“We should head back to the shuttle bay and call for evac,” Cortana said,“unless you’d like to walk home.”

“No thanks,” Keyes said. “I’m Navy—we prefer to ride.”

The journey out of the detention area and back to the launch bay was hairybut not quite as bad as the trip in. It wasn’t long before they allrealized that they reallycould follow the trail of dead bodies back to thelaunch bay. Sadly, some of the dead wore Marine green, which served toremind the Chief of how many humans the Covenant had murdered since the warhad begun more than twenty-five years before. Somehow, in some way, theCovenant would be made to pay.

The tactical situation was made even more risky by the Captain’s condition.

He didn’t complain, but the Spartan could tell that Keyes was sore and weakfrom the Covenant interrogation. It was a struggle for him to keep up withthe others.

The Master Chief signaled for the team to halt. Keyes—out of breath—favored him with a sour look, but seemed grateful for the breather.

Two minutes later, the Chief was about to signal the group to move forwardwhen a trio of Grunts scuttled into view. Needler rounds bounced from thebulkhead and angled right for him.

His shields took the brunt of it, and he returned fire, as did the rest ofthe group. Keyes blew one Grunt apart with a barrage of the explosive glassyneedles. The rest were finished off by a combination of plasma rifle fireand the Chief’s assault rifle.

“Let’s get moving,” the Spartan advised. He took point and moved down thecorridor, bent low and ready for trouble. He’d barely gotten twenty metersdown the passageway when more Covenant moved in—two Jackals and an Elite.

The enemy was getting closer, and more determined, the longer they remained.

He finished off the Jackals with his last frag grenade, then pinned theElite down with assault rifle fire. Keyes directed the Marines to fire onthe alien’s flank, and he went down.

“We need togo , sir,” the Chief warned Keyes. “With respect, we’removing too slowly.”

Keyes nodded, and as a group they sprinted down the twisting passages,stealth abandoned. Finally, after numerous twists and turns, they reachedthe shuttle bay. The Spartan thought it was empty at first, until he noticedwhat appeared to be two light wands, floating in midair.

Fresh from his encounter with the stealth Elite who had been stationed inthe brig, the Master Chief knew better than to take chances. He drew hispistol, linked in the scope, and took careful aim. He squeezed the triggerseveral times and put half a clip into the area just to the right of theenergy blade. A Covenant warrior faded into view and toppled off theplatform.

A Marine yelled, “Watch it!” and “Cover the Captain!” as the secondblade sliced the air into geometric shapes, and started to advance as if onits own. The Spartan put three quick bursts into the second alien, hit hisstealth generator, and the Elite was revealed. Fire poured in from all sidesand the warrior went down.

There was a blast of static as Cortana activated the MJOLNIR’scommunication relays.“Cortana to Echo 419 . . . We have the Captain andneed extraction on the double.”

The reply was nearly instantaneous.“Negative, Cortana! I have a flock ofBanshees on my tail . . . and I can’t seem to shake them. You’ll be betteroff finding your own ride.”

“Acknowledged, Foehammer. Cortana out.”The radio clicked as Cortanaswitched from the suit’s radio to its external speakers.

“Air support is cut off, Captain. We’ll need to hold here until Foehammercan move in.”

A Marine heard the interchange and, already traumatized by the time spent asa Covenant prisoner, began to lose it. “We’re trapped! We’re all gonnadie!”

“Stow the bellyaching, soldier,” Keyes growled. “Cortana, if you and theChief can get us into one of those Covenant dropships, I can fly us out ofhere.”

“Yes, Captain,” the AI replied. “There’s a Covenant ship docked below.”

The Master Chief saw the nav indicator appear on his HUD, followed the arrowthrough a hatch, down a series of corridors, and out into the troopship bay.

Unfortunately, the bay was well defended, and another firefight broke out.

The situation was getting worse. The Chief slammed his last full clip intothe MA5B and fired short, controlled bursts. Grunts and Jackals scatteredand returned fire.

The ammo counter dropped rapidly. A pair of Grunts fell under the Spartan’shail of fire. Within seconds, the ammo counter readOO —empty.

He tossed the rifle away and drew his pistol, and continued firing at thealien forces that had begun to regroup at the far side of the bay. “Ifwe’re going,” he called out, “we need to go now.”

The dropship was shaped like a giant U. It rode a grav field and bobbedslightly as some of the outside air swirled around it. As they approachedit, Keyes said, “Everybody mount up! Let’s get on board!” and led theMarines through an open hatch.

The Spartan waited until everyone else had boarded and backed into theaircraft—just in time. He was down to a single round in his sidearm.

Cortana said, “Give me a minute to interface with the ship’s controls.”

Keyes shook his head. “No need. I’ll take this bird up myself.”

“Captain!” one of the Marines called. “Hunters!”

The Master Chief peered out through the nearest viewport and saw that theprivate was correct. Another pair of the massive aliens had arrived on theloading platform and were making for the ship. Their spines stood straightup, their fuel rod guns were swinging into position, and they were about tofire.

“Hang on!” Keyes said as he disengaged the ship’s gravity locks, broughtthe ship up over the edge of the platform, and pushed one of two joysticksforward. The twin hulls straddled a column, struck both Hunters with whatappeared to be glancing blows, and withdrew.

Even a glancing blow from a ship that weighs thousands of kilos proved to bea serious thing indeed. The dropship’s hull crushed the Hunters’ chestarmor and forced it through their body cavities, killing both of theminstantly. One corpse somehow managed to attach itself to one of the twinbows. It fell as the dropship cleared theTruth and Reconciliation ’s hull.

The Master Chief leaned back against the metal wall. The Covenant craft’stroop bay was cramped, uncomfortable, and dimly lit—but it beat hell out ofwandering through one of their cruisers.

He braced himself as Keyes put the alien aircraft into a tight turn, andaccelerated out into the surrounding darkness. He forced his shoulders torelax, and closed his eyes. The Captain had been rescued, and the Covenanthad been put on notice: The humans were determined to be more than anannoyance—they were going to be a major pain in the ass.

Dawn had just started to break when Zuka ’Zamamee and Yayap passed throughthe newly reinforced perimeter that surrounded the gravity lift, and wereforced to wait while a crew of hardworking Grunts pulled a load of Covenantdead off the blood-splattered pad, before they could step onto the stickysurface and be pulled up into the ship.

Although theTruth and Reconciliation ’s commanding officer believed thatall of the surviving humans had left the ship, there was no way to becertain of that without a compartment-by-compartment check. The shipboardsensors read clear, but this raid had demonstrated beyond a doubt that thehumans had learned how to trick Covenant detection gear.

The visitors could feel the tension as teams of grim-faced Elites, Jackals,and Grunts performed a deck-by-deck search of the ship.

As the pair made their way through the corridors to the lift that wouldcarry them up to the command deck, ’Zamamee was shocked by the extent ofthe damage that he saw. Yes, there were long stretches of passageway thatwere completely untouched, but every now and then they would pass through agore-streaked section of corridor, where bullet-pocked bulkheads, plasma-scorched decks, and half-slagged hatches told of a hard-fought running gunbattle.

’Zamamee stared in wonder as a grav cart loaded with mangled Jackals wastowed past, blood dripping onto the deck behind it.

Finally, they made their way to the appropriate lift, and stepped out ontothe command deck. The Elite expected the same level of security scrutiny asthe last time he addressed the Prophet and the Council of Masters; no doubthe’d be dumped into the holding room for another interminable wait.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. No sooner did ’Zamameeclear security than he and Yayap were whisked into the compartment where theCouncil of Masters had been convened during his last visit.

There was no sign of the Prophet, or any of ’Zamamee’s immediate superiors—but the hardworking Soha ’Rolamee was there, along with a staff of lesserElites. There was no mistaking the crisis atmosphere as reports flowed in,were evaluated, and used to create a variety of action plans. ’Rolamee saw’Zamamee and raised his hand by way of a greeting.

“Welcome. Please sit.”

’Zamamee complied. It didn’t occur to either one of the Elites to offerthe same courtesy to Yayap, who continued to stand. The diminutive Gruntrocked back and forth, ill at ease.

“So,” ’Rolamee inquired, “how much have you heard about the latest . . .

‘incursion’?”

“Not much,” ’Zamamee was forced to admit. “The humans managed to boardthe ship via the gravity lift. That’s the extent of my knowledge.”

“That’s correct in so far as it goes,” ’Rolamee agreed. “There is more.

The ship’s security system recorded quite a bit of the action. Take a lookatthis .”

The Elite touched a button and moving images popped into view and hovered inthe air nearby. ’Zamamee found himself looking at two Grunts and a Jackalstanding in a corridor. Suddenly, without warning, the same human he hadencountered on thePillar of Autumn —the large one with the unusual armor—stepped around the corner, spotted the Covenant troops, and opened fire onthem.

The Grunts went down quickly, but the Jackal scored a hit, and ’Zamamee sawplasma splash the front of the human’s armor.

However, rather than fall as he should have, the apparition shot the Jackalin the head, stepped over one of the dead Grunts, and marched toward thecamera. The image froze as ’Rolamee touched another control. ’Zamamee feltan almost unbelievable tightness in his chest. Would he have the courage toface the human again? He wasn’t sure—and that frightened him as well.

“So,” ’Rolamee said, “there he is, the very human you warned us about. Adangerous individual who is largely responsible for the six-score casualtiesinflicted during this raid alone, not to mention the loss of a valuableprisoner, and six Shades which the enemy managed to steal.”

“And the humans?” ’Zamamee inquired. “How many of them were our warriorsable to kill?”

“The body count is incomplete,” the other Elite replied, “but thepreliminary total is thirty-six.”

’Zamamee was shocked. The numbers should have been reversed.Would have beenreversed had it not been for the alien in the special armor.

“You will be pleased to learn that your original request has now beenapproved,” ’Rolamee continued. “We have preliminary reports from otherstrike groups that most of these unusual humans were killed in the lastlarge engagement. This one is believed to be the last of his kind. Takewhatever resources you need, find the human, and kill him. Do you have anyquestions?”

“No, Excellency,” ’Zamamee said as he stood to leave. “None at all.”